Good morning. The Lord be with you and bless you today.
Today’s Kindle deals include quite a long and impressive list of titles.
(Yesterday on the blog: When Fruit Does Not Spring Up)

This is a strong article from Brianna Lambert. “The dirt trail curved through the tall grass in front of us. My husband and three kids scampered ahead towards the entrance of the canopy of trees. As I padded behind them, my eyes caught a streak of red amidst the stalks of green off the trail. Poking up between the grass, two beautiful red flowers flashed their petals in the August sun.”

Kevin asks a really important question here: Do you assume motives? “In recent days, it seems as if several conversations have come down to the issue of assuming motives. Possibly you have been on one side of this or the other, where in a particular situation, one person guesses the other person’s motives. Often this leaves one or both parties frustrated, especially if the motive guessed is the furthest motive from reality.”

John Beeson explains why he’s a better pastor for you than a lot of other people. I agree with him!

“At a casual glance, it appears that today’s progressivism is largely driven by older generations. Grey-haired protestors glue themselves to motorways, and tubby vicars with hearing aids revel in all the ways a man can pretend to be a woman. This poses an immediate challenge to a young person with a conservative bent. His instinct, indeed his principle, is to listen to and respect his elders; but many of those elders despise all that he holds dear.”

Ryan helpfully distinguishes here between the Lord’s Supper and a potluck. That may sound a little trite, but I think it’s a helpful way to consider the two.

“All of us have different experiences of church. We can get frustrated with other people or tired from our service. We can feel as if no-one speaks to us or overwhelmed that there are too many people to speak to. We can notice all the problems with our local church on some days and rejoice at God’s goodness to our local church on others.”

It is when we are not being tempted, it is when we are standing strong in the Lord’s grace, that we ought to consider the times we will be weak and tempted and eager to sin. 

One of the chief purposes of trial and affliction, is to make us send for our Savior.
—Theodore Cuyler

I know I’m getting old and all that, and I’m aware this means that I’ll be tempted to look unfavorably at people who are younger than myself. I know I’ll be tempted to consider what people were like when I was young and to stand in judgment of what people are like today. Yet even with all that in mind, it’s undeniable that the younger generation today is different from the generations that came before it. That difference is expressed in many different ways, though perhaps the ones we notice most are the levels of anxiety experienced by young people along with their relationship to social media.

The Anxious Generation

This has long been a subject of disquieted fascination to Jonathan Haidt, who many know as one of the co-authors of The Coddling of the American Mind. In his new book The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness, he links the two factors (technology and anxiety) and says “the members of Gen Z are the test subjects for a radical new way of growing up.” This radical new way of growing up is what he refers to as the Great Rewiring of Childhood. Essentially, beginning in the late 90s, children began to be raised in a world that was radically different from the world as it had been before. It was a world in which young people grew into adulthood being constantly formed by new devices and apps. And in Haidt’s telling, these devices and apps did far more harm than good.
He says there are four technology-based trends that together generated the Great Rewiring: the spread of high-speed internet in the early 2000s; the arrival of the iPhone (followed by its many imitators) in 2007; the introduction of social media and the later creation of the “like” and “retweet” capabilities in 2009; and the combination of the front-facing camera with Instagram in 2010-2012. 
With these pieces in place, “Gen Z became the first generation in history to go through puberty with a portal in their pockets that called them away from the people nearby and into an alternative universe that was exciting, addictive, unstable, and … unsuitable for children and adolescents.” Here’s why: “Succeeding socially in that universe required them to devote a large part of their consciousness—perpetually—to managing what became their online brand.” Hence, “they spent far less time playing with, talking to, touching, or even making eye contact with their friends and families, thereby reducing their participation in embodied social behaviors that are essential for successful human development.” In other words, the commitment to technology interrupted their social and emotional development and maturation. 
There’s a second plotline in the Great Rewiring and it is the way parents, beginning in the 80s and 90s, began to overprotect their children. Where children develop best when they are given a measure of freedom and allowed to face risk and make decisions, parents began to overprotect their children, denying them developmental opportunities that had been available to previous generations. Unable to roam and play freely, children instead gravitated to computer-based and then phone-based forms of play. Haidt’s central claim “is that these two trends—overprotection in the real world and underprotection in the virtual world—are the major reasons why children born after 1995 became the anxious generation.”
That is his claim, but can he prove it? In my assessment, he does. Haidt is a non-Christian social psychologist, so relies on an evolutionary understanding of humanity to explain, for example, why children need free play to develop and why men are particularly drawn to pornography. And though I disagree with much of his methodology, I agree with many of his conclusions—conclusions that are often far easier to reach through a biblical framework than a secular one. (Which is to say, I don’t think evolution is necessary or even helpful when considering why men are drawn to porn; the Bible has a better and more compelling answer.)
Haidt begins by setting the context in a chapter he ominously titles “A Surge of Suffering.” He shows how teens are becoming increasingly miserable and suffering increased rates of depression and mental illness. From here he moves to the backstory and, in three chapters, tells how childhood was transformed by fears of safety and a gravitation toward solo, indoor play. In four chapters he describes the Great Rewiring, pausing to show how boys and girls have both suffered, though in different ways—girls especially through the rise of Instagram and chasing impossible standards of beauty and boys through the ubiquity and captivating power of pornography. Both became anxious and, in many ways, ill-equipped to thrive in adulthood.
With the descriptive part of the book behind him, he advances to prescribing ways that we should respond. He suggests four reforms that parents and other adult authorities would do well to consider: Children should not be given smartphones before high school; children should not be given access to social media before the age of 16; schools should be phone-free; and children should be given far more unsupervised play and childhood independence. Of course, many of these reforms must be determined on a community (or even national) basis more than an individual one, so he offers some potential ways to advance communally.
The Anxious Generation is a sobering and challenging book that advances many of the concerns raised in previous bestsellers like The Coddling of the American Mind, iGen, and The Shallows. It aptly shows how technology and overprotection have combined to both shape and harm an entire generation. Encouragingly, it also provides clear and well-informed instructions for parents and other adults that can help today’s young people escape the system and live healthier lives. I recommend the book and its instructions to anyone, but especially to parents. 

I have long observed a fascinating but concerning tendency when I read one of the Bible’s clear commands. I have observed it in myself and I have observed it in others. It’s the tendency to turn quickly from what the Bible does command to what it does not, from the plainest sense of one of God’s directions to a list of exceptions or exclusions. It’s the tendency to hear what God says and immediately reply, “Yeah, but…”

“If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also,” Jesus says. Yeah, but you don’t really mean that in any sense but the metaphorical, right? Surely I shouldn’t actually allow myself to be harmed without mounting a strong defense. Surely I shouldn’t actually suffer unjustly without some kind of recourse or retaliation?
“Love your enemies.” Yeah, but they are your enemies too and they are doing harm to your people and your church. I’m sure you don’t mean for me to actually love them. What if I just pray for them and leave it at that? Isn’t righteous anger and imprecatory prayer a better response in this case?
“Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you.” Yeah, but I know that beggar is going to use the money to buy booze and I’m pretty sure that borrower is going to fritter it away on something ridiculous. Surely wisdom should trump generosity in this circumstance, shouldn’t it?
“Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution, whether it be to the emperor as supreme, or to governors as sent by him to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good.” Yeah, but I’m sure you don’t mean for me to be subject to this ruler, this governor, this institution. Don’t you see how he stole the election? Don’t you see how he hates and defies you? I’m certain you don’t expect me to submit to someone who is so radically unsubmitted to you.
“Pay to all what is owed to them: taxes to whom taxes are owed…” Yeah, but don’t you see what they are going to do with that tax revenue? Don’t you see how high our taxes have gotten? And don’t you think I can do better things with that money than fund their projects and programs?
“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on.” Yeah, but look at my income, look at my bank account, look at my credit card balance, and look at the cost of living. I’m sure you don’t mean I should be free from anxiety even in circumstances like these, right?
“Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands.” Yeah, but I’m sure you don’t mean everything. There must be some limits on that kind of submission. I mean, you should see my husband and you should see how radically disqualified he is to offer any legitimate spiritual leadership. How could I submit to him in anything, much less everything?
“Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” Yeah, but there must be times when I don’t need to obey them, right? Can we talk about those? I want to discuss the circumstances in which obedience gives way to honor. I want to consider the times it is right and good for me to disobey my parents.
For these commands and so many others, my tendency—and perhaps your tendency as well—is to quickly turn the focus from what it says to what it does not say, from the plainest application to the many exceptions. And especially the exceptions that keep me from having to do what makes me uncomfortable.
That’s not to say, of course, that these are all blanket commands. There are times when it would be unwise to give to those who beg or to give a loan to those who ask. There are limits on a citizen’s obedience to government, a wife’s submission to her husband, a child’s compliance to his parents. I don’t know too many people who have actually gouged out an eye or cut off a hand in the battle against lust (though I know some who probably wished they did before they destroyed their life and testimony). Faithful interpretation of the Bible requires thinking seriously about limitations on any of God’s commands and faithful living sometimes requires doing the opposite of some of the clearest commands.
My concern, though, is how often I use the exceptions to delay or withhold obedience. Rather than doing my utmost to fully obey even very difficult commands, I turn quickly to the exclusions. I become an expert on what God does not mean rather than a demonstration of what he does. I live safely and comfortably rather than radically. And, I fear, I end up living in self-satisfied rebellion rather than free and joyful obedience.